


Adelina's Enchiladas

by TheMelancholyVegetable



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Nostalgia, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27439447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMelancholyVegetable/pseuds/TheMelancholyVegetable
Summary: David asks Patrick, a competent cook, to help him recreate Adelina's enchiladas.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 6
Kudos: 95
Collections: Kitchen Adventures





	Adelina's Enchiladas

“Patrick?”

Patrick looked up, attention caught not by his name, but by the uncertainty in his fiancé’s voice.

“What is it, David?”

“Do you think you could help me make this?” David asked, holding out an old, battered piece of paper. He held it reverently, but also a little like he thought it might bite.

Patrick could tell this was something important. “What’s this?” he asked, taking the paper from David and looking over it. “A recipe?”

“It’s um, it’s for enchiladas,” David said, his voice rising at the end as though it were a question. Then, very softly, he added, “It was Adelina’s recipe.”

Adelina had come up a lot over the two years they’d been together. If David wanted to learn to make this recipe, Patrick knew he must be feeling nostalgic for the woman who had been more like a mother to him than Moira had ever been in his childhood.

“Of course, David.”

Patrick read the list of ingredients under his breath. “Three kinds of chilis, peppers, three different kinds of Mexican cheeses.” He looked up at David, who was staring at the candles in the fireplace, chewing his lip.

“We may not be able to find all of these ingredients around here, but I’m sure we can figure out some substitutes that will work,” Patrick said carefully. “Why don’t you go change and we’ll drive out to Elm Glen, to the good grocery store?”

At the store, as they scoured the cheese cooler for an acceptable substitute for Oaxaca cheese, David told Patrick about his disastrous cooking adventure with Moira in the Schitts’ kitchen. Patrick was relieved to see his fiancé’s dramatic flair return to him during the course of the story. Maybe David wasn’t as sad as he’d seemed earlier.

Back home, David’s mood shifted yet again, this time to trepidation. “Okay, so, funny stories about my mother aside, I really have no idea what I’m doing here.” David wrung his hands as he watched Patrick unpack the ingredients from the grocery bags and set up the food processor. “I mean, what is that thing even for?!”

Patrick stopped what he was doing and turned to face David before he spiraled too far. He placed a hand on each of David’s arms, sliding his hands up and down the soft sleeves of David’s sweater, and leaned in to place a firm kiss on his beautiful mouth.

“David, it’ll be okay,” Patrick reassured. “I’ll be here every step of the way, and I know what I’m doing. I can’t promise they’ll be as good as when Adelina made them, especially given the cheese selection at the Elm Glen Metro,” he added, nodding at the counter, “but we won’t mess them up. They’ll be delicious.”

David took a deep, calming breath, and nodded at him. “Okay. I’m going to go change into something a little less….” David gestured at his fuzzy white sweater. Patrick chuckled and swatted his fiancé’s ass as he headed to the bedroom area to change, making David yelp.

Patrick washed the vegetables. When David came back, in one of Patrick’s old t-shirts, Patrick handed him the tomatoes, onions, poblanos, and garlic, and told him, “Peel the garlic cloves, then cut the tomatoes and onions in fourths, and the peppers in half. And wash your hands before and after!”

“I think I can do that,” David smiled, clearly pleased to be given a simple task to start with.

While David worked slowly on cutting and peeling, Patrick rolled up his sleeves and set to work destemming the chilis and removing the seeds.

“What are you doing?” David asked him, eyes flicking between Patrick’s forearms and the growing pile of seeds.

“The seeds are the really hot part of the pepper, so you remove them so you can get the flavors of the pepper without the heat being unbearable,” Patrick explained patiently as he finished scraping the last of the seeds and washed his hands.

“Hmm, okay. Now what?” David asked.

Patrick placed a large pan on the stove and turned the heat up to high. “Next, we’re going to dry roast these chilis, then char the rest of the ingredients for the enchilada sauce.”

While they waited for the pan to heat, David crowded Patrick against the island counter and kissed him thoroughly.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Patrick asked, arms wrapped tight around David’s waist.

“Thank you for doing this for me,” he answered softly.

“Of course, David,” Patrick said, and leaned in for another kiss.

As they made their way through the recipe, David opened up about Adelina. He told Patrick all about the  _ gallinas  _ she would bake for him when he missed his parents, the lullaby she would sing to him whenever a thunderstorm kept him from sleeping, and the firm boundaries she put in place for him and Alexis whenever their childhood got a little too crazy.

Between stories, Patrick guided David through making a sauce (making David squeal and cover his ears at the noise of the food processor), butterflying the chicken (garnering an “ew, Patrick” and a spectacular grimace), and frying the tortillas (causing David to jump all the way across the kitchen for fear of being splattered with grease). Patrick assembled the enchiladas himself. David said he didn’t want to put his hands in the red sauce, but Patrick knew he was afraid he’d mess up after all the work they’d already put in.

As he finally slid the enchiladas into the oven, Patrick asked, trying to keep his voice casual, “What was Adelina’s last name?”

“Alvarez, Adelina Alvarez.”

Patrick hmm’ed in acknowledgement, vowing to find Adelina Alvarez and invite her to the wedding. Maybe Mr. Rose still had her contact information. Or maybe she was on Facebook. He wanted so badly to give that to David. But even if he couldn’t, at least he’d been able to give him back a small piece of her here, today, in their tiny kitchen.


End file.
